Changing Destiny
by Tangerine.Pop
Summary: Carmelita, Neyla and Sly look back on their past and wonder what exactly went wrong and pit them against one another. Sly I&II. AU. SxC, SxN. OC.


Title: Changing Destiny.

Rating: T.

Pairing: Sly x Carmelita, Sly x Neyla (Very minor).

Characters--

From the franchise: Sly, Carmelita (I), Neyla (II).

Original: Ace (Maned Wolf), December (Clouded Leopard), Lekha (White Tiger).

December Leopard: (Neyla's little sister)

Fur: Dusky cornflower/lilac body, ice blue belly, chest, mouth, eye blazes, inner ears, palms; deep cold violet markings, dark blue and ice blue clouded leopard spots near extremities.

Hair: Ankle length, dark black, plum sheen.

Eyes: Dark, cold violet.

Warnings: Mentions of character death.

Summary: Carmelita, Neyla and Sly look back on their past and wonder what exactly went wrong and pit them against one another. (Sly I&II)(AU)(SxC, SxN)(OC)

Disclaimer: Any unrecognizable characters © myself, Sly and all related characters and situations belong to their respective owners. I claim to own nothing.

A/N #1: I have seen it erred that Neyla is a White Tiger or a Clouded Leopard; for all intents and purposes, I've gone with the latter.

#2: I dislike OC's in stories as much as the next person and I do apologize for the use of them here. I am intending them to have a major feature but a minor role in the story. You may see a lot of the two original characters, but the story itself is focused mainly around Neyla, Carmelita and Sly.

#3: Sly has never and will not meet Bentley, Murray or any other foes or allies from the franchise at this time. This may be subject to change.

#4: Hope you find something in this humble story to enjoy! :D

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Chapter One: Warm Bodies = Cold Hearts?

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New Delhi couldn't be called a barren wasteland, because that was far from what it was. However, it was far from the bustling city of Paris Neyla saw now every day.

Malice drowned eyes looked across the dark cityscape with a fierce resolve as they did every night she failed to catch that bleeding thief. It was made worse that with every failure, she started to believe that maybe she would never capture the criminal.

"At least you would be happy, 'Cember." She said to the breeze and pushed the window shut, watching the light curtains fall still and lifeless - her thoughts wishing them to be furred with a ringed tail. What she wouldn't give for that raccoon to just drop dead.

"Why do you kill...?" A melodic voice asked from deep in the chilled room.

"I have to. To catch him." Neyla responded, folding her soft furred arms across her bare midriff. She was a strong but cold woman, and a self-made expert of the streets. It came, unfortunately, from a lackluster childhood but that couldn't be helped any more than her viciousness towards Sly Cooper.

"... Why?" The voice came again, along with the dull rhythm of a tail patting the ground, unearthing sleeping dust though the attached body reacted none aside from ethereal eyes following the floating particles.

"He needs to die for what he did!" Neyla snarled before closing her sharp green eyes, a slim hand pressing over them. She was getting far too angry for such a beautiful night and she knew it - it wouldn't stop the irritation from bubbling and festering away, she knew, no matter how many stars could glitter in the sky's inky blanket.

"And... what did he do?" December asked, lifting a delicate finger to swirl through the musty air, sending the dust dancing for her pleasure; intricate and weaving. It was the most awe inspiring sight she had seen for many years, being cooped up in this dingy little room with no hope to see the outdoors.

"You know very well what he did." The mauve leopard spat and barely noticed as her boot clad feet unconsciously carried her from one end of the room to the other in a quick pace - she couldn't let her mind fall back on those memories. At least not right now when it was time to sleep.

"May I see the outside tomorrow?" December asked as she did every night before they would sleep. Her mouth opened a crack and tinged blue lips molded around silent words she knew Neyla would say.

"No, it's too dangerous." Neyla sighed and pulled the rich red scarf from her head, closing her work-tired eyes with a sigh. Oh, how she wanted to let her little sister be free, but as long as the threat of one Sly Cooper prowled the Parisian streets, she couldn't allow it to become reality.

"Neyla... do you really think 'Coon would hurt me?"

"Of course! That's all he knows how to do. He hurts people, December, no matter what they are, or were, to him." Neyla said and sat on the small cot in the corner of the room, frustration beating at her skull and ailing her with another chronic headache.

"Why do you still call him that? Stop being so pathetic." The elder of the two clouded leopards said and tried not to shout, even though she wanted to oh so badly. She didn't want to hurt her family, it was her one weakness.

Too bad she couldn't realize that keeping her younger sister December, essentially in captivity, she was hurting her in the worst way.

December had once been a vibrant and cheerful leopard in a fresh lilac color, her shoulder length jet hair shining in the sun's glorious rays. She had adored Sly and at one time had formed an innocent crush on the wily raccoon, though she knew it could go nowhere, and she was happy to accept it.

Years of being trapped in a tiny room with no sunlight has dulled her fur, turned it cold colored but no coarser, due to Neyla's regular grooming. Her eyes don't show the happy glimmer they did in years past; they are as dead as her sister's, until she can think back on the people she cherishes.

When she had met Sly and begun to look up to him in her meek manner, she had hoped to have a name for him that was for her to speak only. Neyla called him simply by name, a past friend of theirs by Carmelita referred to him most often as Cooper or Ringtail, and what little she saw of the fox' cousin, Ace, he referred to Sly simply as 'S'.

She was young when she had decided a nickname was in order. Very smart for her age, she had known what species he was but her premature speech couldn't seem to wrap entirely around the word Raccoon, though the latter half of it seemed to be said with no major glitches - and so, to her, Sly had become 'Coon', and he promised to never let another ever call him that.

That promise remained in her heart even now. When you are young, a promise is everything and when you get older, you cherish things gone by much more than you did when you had them. Age brings wisdom, regret and 20/20 hindsight, all of which she now had and the signs of Sly's turn for the worst were obvious from the beginning if you only dared to look hard enough for things you don't dare believe of your closest friends.

Neyla once could have claimed happiness, but time passing has erased most of the memories of better times - dreadful ones however remain clear as glass in her mind.

Her worst memory was possibly being a child. Thieves in India had forced Neyla from her demure little home, her parents thrusting the small bundle of fur and big purple eyes at her and telling her to run. She had done as asked but oh what a mistake it seemed to be.

At the time it was bad because her sister was newborn, and she didn't know at all how to look after a baby. She wasn't old enough to understand it all at age five - she knew not why her parents through her out or why they never came to find her...

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Small feet crunched down fresh and still falling snow, the biting ice pushing pain into soft and tender pads. Never had she seen snow like this! It had been so pretty and clean, she didn't know it could make her ache so badly.

"Come on baby sister, we'll find momma and poppa later." Neyla whispered to the quiet baby leopard clutched tight in her tiny arms. She was so afraid - she didn't even know her sister's name the little cub was so new.

She had no love for it. She barely knew it, but she loved her parents and she was a responsible little girl - they'd told her so. So she'd look after it anyway so she could show her parents what she had done so they could be proud of her for such a good job done!

Neyla wasn't being cruel whenever she addressed it as an 'it'. It had no name, it wasn't that she hadn't listened, her momma had never gotten round to giving it a beautiful name like Neyla's own.

She was not dressed for this weather, expecting to be inside and in front of the fire with her family. Her choli and sari were inadequate to cover her torso and protect it from the bitter wind, though the top of the cloth acted as a hood to keep some of the flurry of snow off her head and out of her sensitive ears.

Crimson and gold saree, over a black choli, stark in the white snow, she was easily seen by the townsfolk as she tottered uneasily into the market. It was quite a ways from her home and it seemed there was no evidence of the bad men in the little stalls with a variety of things to be sold.

Her little mauve feet hit the rough path where snow had been brushed out of the way to give visiting villagers a better walk. She was glad the snow was less, even though her toes had already turned numb from the harmless looking white powder. Neyla scurried along the busy street, red lehenga swaying around her knees in her hurry and her tail escaping being trodden on just barely.

Neyla didn't know where to go - where was safe for a little girl with no money and a little baby in her possession? Was there somewhere that could possibly be deemed safe?

Her bright eyes never once stilled. It was her duty to look out for the evil men now that her parents weren't there to do it. She did what her momma did when they were in the market - waited at the side of a stall and looked around (Even though she didn't know really what she was even looking for) then went on to the next, though she never spoke to the owner or even dared make eye contact.

Neyla decided that walking for an hour around the quaint market would be best. The men would probably be gone from her house by then and she could ask her momma what they wanted. She didn't really understand why her parents seemed so afraid when the men came round - they were just like everyone else, weren't they?

At that age, trust is given free and easy. It's hard to know and understand who is good and who is bad; who is too different to be normal and who is just right. Not anymore, if they were bad people, maybe all people were bad people?

Should she trust the market? Or were they all bad people like her house visitors? How could she decide who could have her trust and who couldn't? It was a difficult decision for such a young child and the stress of it caught up with her quick, being much too fast for her easygoing mind.

"Excuse me?"

The voice was so close; Neyla knew it was addressing her. It was a woman, she knew at least, but was it a bad woman, or a good one? The voice sounded sweet and melodic - but maybe they were just a good liar.

"Get off me!" Neyla hissed and turned to face the presence, wrenching her shoulder out of the warm hand. Her ears back and nose wrinkled, she narrowed bright eyes and thin pupils at the surprised snow leopard stood in front of her.

"I apologize." The predominantly white cat clipped and pulled her hands back to herself, holding her elbows lightly. "Are you all right, though, dear? Aren't you cold?"

"N-no!" Neyla said and cursed the chattering of her little fangs. She pulled the little roll of cloth in her arms closer and tensed up her body in an attempt to look stronger than she was.

"You are. Where are your parents?" The tiger asked, lowering her voice to something akin to a whisper. She had an idea, it was small, but she hoped it would aid her in getting the trust of the little cloudy child. She crouched on her haunches carefully and rested the back of her hands on her knees, bright palms facing skyward to show no threat of weaponry.

"At home with the bad men!" The purple leopard said and scowled at the hands nearby; afraid they would lash out and grab her if she didn't speak now.

"The bad men? Who are they?"

"What's your name?" Neyla asked suddenly, frowning deep. It wasn't fair that this lady got to ask her so many questions but she got no answers of her own.

"Lekha Mehta. What is yours, dear?" Lekha asked, crystal bright eyes discreetly taking in the pinkish lilac body shivering hard and holding a soft white blanket as if her life depended upon its safety.

'None of your business is what it is' Neyla thought, but decided fair was fair - one for one - a trade was probably better than simply ignoring Lekha. Her mother had, after all, taught her general etiquette when meeting people and staying silent while spoken to was certainly not a part of the lessons.

"Neyla..." She finally offered in a sour tone, her face taking on an expression of an unhappy pout as she didn't get the upper hand as she would like.

"Well, Neyla... could you tell me who the bad men are? I will buy you something to eat if you could tell me." Lekha promised the little cat, smiling disarmingly. She was worried for Neyla's welfare, it was in her nature to look out for the wellbeing of others and it always had been.

"They came into the house without knocking first - momma said you should always knock - and they started talking in this really mean voice." Neyla said and looked up as the white femme stood tall once again. She followed obediently behind the long tail and after a moment grasped it with one hand, not wanting to become lost.

She knew what a bribe was and how it worked but she had to accept it. Neyla was hungry, very hungry. She hadn't eaten since last night as her momma had been making breakfast when the bad men showed up. It had been a long time for her little stomach to go without food and she had no money to buy it herself so this seemed a last resort.

"I'd never seen people like that before. One of them had a stripy tail like yours but bigger." Neyla said, holding the white tail up for reference. "He had this long stick with a shiny yellow end! I don't know what it was for. They talked nasty to my poppa then started breaking things!"

"Oh dear..." Lekha whispered and pressed her hand to her mouth thoughtfully. It seemed as though robbers were the 'bad men', as she couldn't think why people would break up the house objects.

"My momma passed me this and told me to run away. I'm gonna go back later and tell momma I don't like it out here. It's cold." Neyla mumbled and walked around the tall legs of other people, still using the tail in her hand as a guide.

"What did she pass you?" Lekha asked and pulled Neyla to stop next to a cozy looking wooden stall.

"This." Neyla said and offered up the cloth bundle to the motherly tiger, her attentions now on the lip of the stand. If she stood on her tip toes and held the edge of it, she could see lots of different colored fruit on show. Her small hand reached out and plucked up a funny shaped one with a hard outer skin, the colors attracting her eyes. "What's this?"

"That's a mango, dear." Lekha smiled then pulled away a flap of the cloth she'd taken and stifled a gasp at the little dusky purple furred kitten inside. A baby was the last thing she was expecting to see inside of the blanket. "Who is this, Neyla?"

"Can I have this?" Neyla asked, holding the mango in both of her little paws above her head as if Lekha couldn't possibly see it if she held it any lower.

"Neyla, who is this?"

"Can I have this?" Neyla parroted, determined to get an answer before she said anything more.

"Yes, of course. Now, please..." The older of them urged and turned eyes of the lightest blue expectantly against defiant aquamarine ones.

"It's my sister. Momma made me take her." Neyla scoffed unhappily but hugged the mango closer, much preferring it as a replacement.

"Your sister? What is her name, Neyla?" Lekha inquired, her hand freeing to dip into her small pouch, pulling out a few Indian rupee and handing them to the elderly golden cheetah inside the warm stall.

"Don't know." Neyla replied holding her prized mango up and straining her arms to pull it apart with no luck. "How do you get in it?" She asked and licked the green part of the fruit, knowing for definite that she did not like the taste of the green bit. Making sure she wasn't just trying out the wrong part, she repeated what she had done on the red half of it and huffed as it tasted no better.

"Come with me, I'll show you. Neyla... what is her name?"

"I told you I don't know!" Neyla frowned, "She only showed up like a week ago. Momma didn't give her a name."

"No?" Lekha asked and sighed, stroking the back of her knuckle against the maw of the tiny being in her arms, surprised when clumsy hands fumbled to grab her larger, more refined one, the small mouth sucking softly on her knuckle.

"Neyla, what would you like to call her?" She asked and glanced down at the little leopard, wondering if she would be all right to brave walking through the snow once again.

"Don't know. 'Cember." Neyla said and sniffled from the cold, looking closely at the mango from all angles to try and find the way to open it. She wanted to find it before Lekha showed her so the tiger with ice colored hair could be proud of her.

"'Cember? As in December?"

"Yeah." Neyla nodded affirmatively and looked up to skitter after the tall black stripes that were a ways ahead of her now. She found herself fascinated by the way the pristine white fur blended in with the fresh snow.

"All right. December it is." Lekha said to herself and pushed open the door to her house, urging Neyla inside though the wisteria furred child looked to be less than pleased by being asked to enter a house she didn't know.

Eventually the small leopardess slinked inside of the living room once she was left alone in Lekha's wake as the tigress gave her the time to enter of her own will. She pushed the solid wooden door shut with a click then walked across to the crackling amber fire, settling down in front of it to appreciate the warmth radiating from it, though her hands never pulled fully from the colorful fruit.

Sleep pulling on her eyes; she succumbed to the tiredness that unconscious stress had piled upon her shoulders. She couldn't have known that in the morning she would awake to a cold house, December next to her, and the beautiful white pelt of Lekha stained ruby red...

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A/N: You don't need to review, I don't mind. Though if you do, please give me your opinions on:

* December Leopard (I am willing to pull OC's out if people want me to).

* My writing - is it good/bad? Is it boring? How may I get better?

* Would you like me to draw Ace and December for reference to you all? Bearing in mind my drawing skill is mediocre at best.

If you read all the way to here, great and thanks! :)


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